


A Horse With No Name

by QuinnCliff



Series: Heart's a Mess [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood Drinking, Dark Sherlock, Disturbing Themes, Human John, Jealous Sherlock, M/M, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV John Watson, POV Sherlock Holmes, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Sad John, Vampire Mycroft, Vampire Sherlock, Violence, Younger John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:35:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1441984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinnCliff/pseuds/QuinnCliff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is broken and has nothing to lose.<br/>Sherlock has lived too much and yet learned so little.<br/>What will happen when these two bodies collide?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Helena

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Koń bez imienia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442319) by [Luthien_00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien_00/pseuds/Luthien_00)



> Hi there!
> 
> This is the first work of a series inspired by my love for our boys and music.
> 
> It's not betad or brit picked, so please forgive any mistakes. I'll try my best to deliver a well written material for you all, but some things just escape the eyes.
> 
> The vampires here are old school, pretty much based on Bram Stoker's, pepperd by Anne Rice's, but with some changes to be explained during the story.
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoy it! (;

  _"_ _And what’s the worst you take from every heart you break?”_

   Three coffins. John’s entire world was divided in three mahogany coffins.  He just stared at them without blinking. He didn’t even cry, he couldn’t find strength to do it. He was only standing there looking at what used to be his family. There was no one else at the funerary and it wouldn’t at the burial either. His family was very reclusive, they always had a routine to follow and none of them was willing to break it. But life found a way to break them. And so was all gone, all done. And there it was John, all alone.

   The funerary people didn’t even let the coffins open, doctors said the lorry made a hell of a mess with their bodies. John didn’t want to know more. He just wanted to curl himself on the ground and let earth consume him just like it would do with his family. There was nothing else there for him anyway. His only friends were his family; they used to laugh together, play together, watch telly together, eat together, they were one bloody cell. When one got sick all the others felt ill too. Now that they were dead, John certainly also felt dead.

   He was at a rugby match. His mom had taken him earlier so he would train with the other school boys, it was the last match before he graduate and he was very nervous, wanted to leave school with a trophy to be proud of, to make his folks proud too. She came back home and at night they left to watch him play. But they never arrived at the stadium. John didn’t even had the chance to say goodbye. He always thought he would hug them, sing to them, be there for them when they’re going away, he thought it would be peaceful. He could never imagine it would be like this. Knowing about it through a cop on the phone.

   He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look at the coffins anymore. Those weren’t his people. They were far gone already, John wouldn’t find them anymore. All the memories from two days ago just hit him on the face. The last time he saw his dad he was sitting on the couch reading the papers, but stood only to give John a hug and wish a good practice. John could almost feel his cologne, bittersweet; dad loved perfumes. The last time he saw Harry she had her dark brown hair in a ponytail and was surfing on the net while listening to some rock music, she stood and grabbed John out of the floor, and gave him a kiss on the cheeks before he left. The last time he saw his mom, she put her hand on his cheek and said she was going to bring everyone at night and after that they’d eat in his favorite dinner; she said she was already proud of him. He kissed her forehead and got out of the car.

_At least they are all together_ , John tried to remind himself. But deep down he really didn’t know if that was true. Why would it be? Why would anything be true? If there was a god, then why would he – in all his power – just take away this good people? John stopped feeling sad for a moment and became angry, very angry. He turned his back on the coffins and ran away from there, that suffocating place. He didn’t know where to go, he didn’t know what to do, he just wanted to stop all the pain and anger. But it seemed quite impossible.

   He just realized his body was tired and broken when he felt his legs quivering falling right onto the hard cemented ground. The way he felt his limbs and torso crashed and aching he perceived he had ran without stop for about five hours or maybe more. And had no idea where he was, he actually didn’t care about it. John was lying on his stomach on the warm and dirty floor, and he didn’t give a damn. He just thought about staying there, maybe it would swallow him eventually, make him disappear. He had no business here anyway. No one for him to love and nobody to love him. He was finished.

   He stayed there for some minutes, maybe hours. No one seemed to care about his moribund being there thrown to the crows. Then John tilted his head and looked up, the skies were dark and the streets were empty. It was probably around one o’clock in the morning, so who passed by him probably just thought he was an addicted teen or some begger. Anyway, he could be both and none, nobody would care anyway. Slowly he started to stand up until he managed to bring his trembling legs to the nearest wall, and he used his weak arms to support his failing small body. That was when he saw it. The hospital.

   He had gone so far and yet ended up right next to where his family pieces were taken after the accident. John couldn’t help an acid smile. _Life is a bitch indeed, isn’t it?_ He didn’t even think much, just kept walking as fast as his exhausted body could handle it. What would he do there? He was not sure, but maybe there was going to be an answer to all his questions and fears. Of course the doors were open and some few people were walking inside it, mostly nurses. John just passed by all of them, not caring if someone talked to him or asked him what he was doing there, he just shut the world out.

   It was a long way to the roof and he realized during it that he had a limp, but he was not sure if because of his tiring body or just sadness. Maybe both, he didn’t mind, he just walked until he found the door to the hospital’s roof top, and for his lucky – because he surely was a very lucky boy – it was empty. Soon there were only him and some few seen stars. He limped until the border and sat down there with his legs loosen up pointing down to the street below him. He was so high, but felt so low.

   Would he meet his family, like a hopeful part of him thought, or would he fall into darkness, like most of him believed now. The only thing he knew was that heaven or hell, blankness or darkness would be better than to stay living in this place that felt so strange to him, so unusual and so bloody cruel. Right there, leaning his body out of the roof he felt sadness, anger, despair, and longing. No tear would fall down from his eyes. He wouldn’t have to mourn, he wouldn’t have to bear all the pain. No, he was going to be free. He looked down.   _So here I go_.

   “Go ahead, make my night”, said a low baritone rough voice.


	2. Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey people!
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and support! You make me wanna write more and more.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this one.
> 
> Cheers. (;

 

_“Living in ruins of the palace within my dreams, and you know we’re on each other’s team.”_

  **Six hours before**

   Victoria stepped right in front of him, hands on her waist and head tilted to the left, eyes on his eyes. She was glaring, he was barely staring. Her long blonde hair fallen down in waves until her elbows, her pale freckled skin could deceive people to think she was innocent; her eyes that usually were mud green now were emerald ones, shining bright like street lights; her fangs were down, and she kept doing that terrifying smile just to make sure he saw them, to make sure he knew how angry she was.

   “I really cannot believe you did that! What were you thinking, Sherly?!” she said, voice scratching a scream.

   He didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her, mind half present half drifting. The part that was paying attention to what she was saying really didn’t understand why all the fuss, he did what he had to do to get that bloody diamond, wasn’t that what she asked him to do anyway?

   “You don’t even realize what you’ve done, right? Not only in this last job, but in all the others. You are reckless! You don’t give a fuck, you just destroy what’s in your way! And you know, usually I wouldn’t mind that, but we’re told a thousand of times that some people – some important people – are suspicious of us. Of our kind! If you just leave bodies like that everywhere you go, they’ll soon know everything, Sherly!” she now folded her arms and leaned to stay only a few inches away from his face, “Stop fucking up!”

   Sherlock rolled his eyes and stood up, he hated anyone too close to him like that, even if it was Victoria, the person – vampire – he knew longer and better his entire life. And damn, it was an extremely long life. He passed his hands through his hair and turned his back at her, just pacing around. “Like any human could handle us.”

   She heavily sighed and stepped closer to his back. “We are indeed much more powerful than them, but we are outnumbered, you know that. It’s like that movie… A Bug’s Life? When all the ants join to send the grasshoppers away, they’re weaker but they were more. And they won, remember? So if humans decided to do it, they could! You know it.”

   Sherlock had to turn his head to look at Victoria. He saw that she was a bit calmer, her fangs even retracted, as if talking about a cartoon did that to her. He sometimes forgot how young she was when they turned her, barely thirteen. Her small and chubby body was always there, her features were the same since she became a vampire but Sherlock usually forgot about it, maybe because she lost the juvenile air, the innocent glowing in the eyes. She was very mature most of the times, she needed to be after all she was responsible for Sherlock as his maker. But some few times, like this last one, Sherlock could see the little girl she never could quite be. The girl that lived somewhere inside that old brain of hers, that liked cartoons and dolls. He couldn’t help to soft his tone when he said, “They don’t even stand out for things they know, like corruption, violence, why would they stand up for something unknown like us?”

   “I hope they don’t! But I’m just saying, little one, if you’re going to kill anyone try to hide the fang marks or just break their necks instead of drain their blood, make them think it was only another common murder and not an exquisite serial killer. That could track them to us. Okay?” She put her hand in his shoulder and gave a light smile.

   “Fine, Vic. But you should give me a better job next time, the diamond one was so tedious!” he put his hands on his eyes and threw his body on the couch, spreading himself like a lazy and bored thing.

   Victoria chuckled softly, “Actually I already have another one. This time it’s more than just theft, it’s… Rather important.” Sherlock removed his hands from the eyes and sat properly. His maker continued, “Let’s say it’s covering information. I was told by trustful sources that someone out there is making a bit too many researches about bats and nocturnal animals and their affects in the human body.”

   Sherlock frowned, “Many people tried that, they never get anywhere. Why is this so important?” Victoria sat next to him in the other end of the couch, she crossed her legs up and put her tiny hands in her knees.

   “Well, the others didn’t have what this one has”, she said that in a playful tone, as if daring Sherlock to guess.

   He rolled his eyes, “Authentic vampire samples”, it was not a question or a guess.

   “Yep. My source is not quite sure how they got it, but it’s authentic like you said. They have our DNA out there, Sherly. I don’t think they know that yet, but they will soon enough. You need to steal or destroy it!”

   “Why this so trustful source of yours didn’t do it already?” he asked looking sternly at her, almost daring.

   Victoria shrugged, “They don’t want to risk their lives for it, and they said it’s not easy to get to the research room. But again, they’re humans. So it won’t be too difficult for you, baby”, before he could say that it would be boring then, she added “It won’t be a piece of cake either, and even if it is, you need to get everything they have on us. You need.”

   “Oh well.”

   She giggled and leaned to kiss his cold cheek.

\--

   “Go ahead, make my night.”

   The night was not quite going as Sherlock had planned. He walked around the entire hospital after this damn lab, but it looked like it was well hidden. All of his observations and deductions didn’t go anywhere; people just had no idea that they had a secret lab inside the building, so Sherlock couldn’t take any information from them. And whoever was the researcher (or researchers) wasn’t in the bloody place. The vampire detective was getting really annoyed and frustrated until he thought about the only place he hadn’t looked for it. The roof. And that’s when he found out the suicidal boy, which quite amused him for a change.

   “Go away!” the blonde human shouted in a broken tone.

   “Why would that matter? You’re not into watched suicides? You want more privacy?” Sherlock darkly grinned getting closer to the human.

   “It’s not fair…”, kid just said looking at the streets below.

   “Oh I should know. But guess what, it only gets worst”, Sherlock put his arms behind his backs and stood beside the boy, “Well, if you’re not going to throw yourself then you could do something for me.”

   The blonde one hesitated for a moment and narrowed his eyes, “I will, there’s no point… I’ll do it. I’ll…” he suddenly stood up and looked very decided to jump, Sherlock tilted his head and stared at him. No, he wouldn’t. He really didn’t want this, it was pretty obvious to Sherlock, wasting no time he just picked the boy by his arms and put him far away from the roof border.

   “What are you doing? Stop it. I can’t, I can’t!” the boy fell onto his knees but didn’t get near the dangerous spot.

   “You can’t indeed jump, but what you can do is to enter that small tubing next to the pipes”, Sherlock knee down and lifted the boy’s chin up so he could look into his eyes. Ocean eyes. For a moment Sherlock felt the breeze of the Mediterranean hitting his face. He shook his head, “If you do that I’ll be kind enough not to call the nurses or the cops to come get you, because honestly you look wrecked.”

   “Why do you need me to enter there?” he asked sheepishly.

   “Because I can’t, and I need to know what’s inside”, Sherlock let go of his chin and stood up, “You will crawl until you find something, and when you do just observe, take note of all the details you can, don’t do anything else. You come back and talk to me”, his tone was commanding and not opened for discussions.

   “What’s in there?”

   “Didn’t you hear me? I don’t know!” Sherlock truly hated repetitions.

   “And then?” the boy said while standing up.

   “And then what?”

   “Me. What… You won-“ his pink lips were trembling and his hands were curling on each other nervously.

   “I’ll see.”

   That depends, Sherlock thought. Sherlock was not thirsty now, but he could be when the boy returned, or maybe he would just help him jump after all. The only thing he knew was that the boy couldn’t get out of that roof with any kind of information.

   “I’m John, by the way. John Watson.”


	3. For What It's Worth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and comments!
> 
> For this chapter I just would like to say I drifted and tripped a bit with all the hidden lab and the tubing stuff, I don't think it's possible to keep a secret lab like that in a hospital, but oh well, it's a fiction story, so I just took some creative liberty, hope you don't mind!
> 
> Forgive any mistakes!
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. (;

 

_"Paranoia strikes deep. Into your life it will creep. It starts when you're always afraid."_

 

   The tubing was indeed small, actually it was much tighter than John expected it to be. Plus it looked like it didn’t belong there on the roof, what was its function? There was no ventilation, not even dust. Looked like someone cleaned the place daily. John didn’t understand why the mysterious man wanted him to come inside and check the place out, but he did anyway. He thought that if he didn’t, the man would call someone that would probably put him into an asylum or something, and he definitely rather die to go through that.

   It was not too easy to get his entire body inside the tubing, he was short and skinny, but he wasn’t a damn smurf. John crawled until he realized he would have to go down in a very declined place, actually he’s pretty much had to pull a Alice in Wonderland to get to the bottom of it. _Maybe I’m lucky and I just die trying_ , he thought. But he should have known he wasn’t lucky at all, because he collapsed into a… Soft place? He was lying down on his tummy and his cheek was on something that felt like silk, he shifted his head to look down and realized he was spread on a dark blue silk blanket, actually looked like there were many blankets pilled to make a soft landing from above, which John thought it was rather weird. _Why would they need it? Only if… No dust, silk… People came here all the time then!_ They were doing something secret here, that was the reason the tall man wanted John checking the stuff.

   The boy got on his knees and started to crawl ahead until he found a door, a copper door with a very big knob. It seemed like Wonderland then. John put all his strength to pull it and the thing just opened up for him, it was strangely easy, really. John kept going until he realized he could stand up. Where was this place building anyway? It looked like it was the last floor of the hospital but it wasn’t though, was it between walls? John couldn’t quite figure the architecture out, and he stopped to think about it when he looked around where he was stand.

   Seemed like a waiting room, the walls were beige with a brown line in the middle, there were orange chairs, a very green plant in the corner and a telly above all. John turned around and found out a glass door, very neat and locked. He tried to look what was inside the next room but the glass had a very dark purple insulfilm and John couldn’t see one single thing. He sighed in frustration and realized he had nothing else to do there but coming back. And… How would he do that? He walked through the waiting room, crawled the small door with the huge knob, closed it, and then arrived at the silk spot.  He looked up and saw from where he had fallen. How would he go up? The people who came here probably had an elevator in the other room or something to go out, though clearly some arrived through this place. So, this must be a backup entry and exit, that being said there has to be a way up.

   John groped the walls searching for something he didn’t know really until he felt a dispositive, like a very small button. John pressed it and suddenly the tubing was lined with silver handholds. It was truly amazing how they just popped out of nowhere. Whoever kept this place thought of everything, and they definitely cared for what was inside.

   So John got out of the tubing after all, a little tired and a bit excited. Only a bit. He still felt morbid inside. The man had his back to the tubing but turned around just when John appeared at the roof again. John could not help to perceive how the full moon light valorized the man’s pale skin. He was extremely white, and his dark curls and deep stormy eyes just made a very beautiful contrast, which John secretly found fascinating.

   “So?” the man asked with that deep voice of his.

   “So it’s really weird”, John simply said, his tone puzzled.

   “What is? What did you find there? Spill it out, boy!” he stepped closer, very impatient.

   “I found something”, John started, “Or maybe nothing.”

   The man looked confused. John knew what he was doing, he realized while he was climbing that somehow he would not end well if he just said to the man what he saw, and after all the individual didn’t look like the friendly or good type, so John thought it was better to play something like Sherazade in Arabian Nights. Maybe that would keep him alive or just give him some adrenalin or free emotion.

   “What do you mean? Why won’t you just say it?” the man glared at him, now standing only a few inches away.

   “Can’t you figure it out?” John lifted his chin and kept his gaze in challenge.

   “You’re playing a very dangerous game, kid. If you don’t tell me what you saw down there I’ll rip your head off.”

   “Using what? Your teeth?”

   “Don’t try me!” the man growled and took John’s neck with his right hand, then squeezed a bit making the boy gasp for air, “Who do you think you are anyway? Let me see… Teen with low self-steam, plays rugby, has no girlfriend in the moment, is coming from a social event formal but not quite formal, probably a relative’s birthday, last time you ate was seven hours ago, you ran for a long time and thought about killing yourself when stopped at the hospital for a merely accident. How was that?”

   The man released John’s neck just enough for the boy to speak, “H-how do you know all of this?”

   “The way you comb you hair to the side shows you don’t think much of yourself to try to risk a more modern hairstyle; your hands are full of callus but not a trace of chemical reaction, which means it was by sport, rugby is the most adequate for you who just want to mend it without standing out; your lips look healthy just like your throat and you don’t smell like female fragrance, with means no girlfriend; you are wearing a tie and a suit, but simple black trousers instead of proper suit ones, there not too formal; there is a stain of mustard at the bottom of your sleeve that must have been there for the past seven hours; your shoes are very wasted at the borders but they are new; and the hospital part is quite obvious, isn’t it? Did I get everything right?” He darkly grinned at the boy, eyes ice cold.

   “Almost,” the grip softened a bit more, “I was not at a relative’s birthday, I was at my family’s funeral. The rest is right. This was quite fantastic really”, John said honestly. It should have pissed him off but he just found all the deductions quite brilliant.

   “What did you say?” suddenly the man let go of John and the boy stumbled back, “Fantastic?”

   “Yes, didn’t you hear?” John tried to imitate the same tone the man used when John repeated a question before he entered the tubing.

   “That’s not what I usually hear from hu… From people.”

   “What do you usually hear then?”

   “Fuck off.”

   John couldn’t help but to chuckled, he put his hand on his mouth and went ahead with all the suppressed stress turning into high-pitched giggles, “People are stupid, at least most of the times.”

   “Couldn’t agree more”, he looked down for a moment as if considering something, “I’m Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes.”

   “That’s a very weird name, looks ancient really. How old are you?” John just laughed, softer this time.

   “A hundred and sixty-nice years old”, Sherlock said simply.

   “You do act, dress and speak like you were”, John smiled teasing. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down, he was actually feeling slightly better.

   “Why aren’t you trying to run away? You clearly saw I’m dangerous.”

   “Here, there, now I see no difference really.” _There is nothing for me out there, and here I can at least have some good old-fashioned adrenalin._

   “You were going to kill yourself because you lost your family”, Sherlock said staring right through John with serious and bit curious eyes.

   “Yes”, was all John said.

   “Pathetic and dull. Doesn’t look like you at all”, Sherlock said holding his arms behind his back.

   “Have you ever loved someone more than yourself? Have you ever felt like they hold a piece of you? Maybe all of you?” John asked, he felt his cheeks going red with the thought of all the love his family and him had.

   “No. It would be incredibly not practical and time wasting”, Sherlock’s voice was full of disdain.

   “Well, then you couldn’t possibly know what I feel. That said, you should not call something you know nothing about _pathetic and dull_. You may think you know so many things, maybe you do, but if you never really loved anyone… Gosh, then you just haven’t lived at all. My mom used to say to me that we only understood things when we felt love towards them, and if you find the sentiment pathetic and dull, then I’m hell sure you know absolutely nothing about the world”, John said with a tranquil but strong voice.

   Sherlock looked like he had a loss for words. John could smile at the scene but he suddenly felt so bloody tired. Like he could just fall down anywhere and sleep. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, “I’ll go now, if you don’t mind. By the way, there was a waiting room and glass door with purple insulfilm, so I couldn’t see anything from the inside. Hope I was any help. Nice meeting you.”

   John just turned around and walked away from the roof. Sherlock didn’t move.

 

 

 


	4. Hurts Like Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos, they help me a lot to write more!
> 
> So, for this chapter I must warn about mild violence, you know, vampire sucking humans and stuff. lol
> 
> Sorry in advance for any kind of mistakes, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> ;*

 

_"Do you ever get the feeling that you're missing the mark? It's so cold, it's so cold. Written up in marker on a factory sign. I struggle with the feeling that my life isn't mine. It's so cold, it's so cold."_

 

 

   When he arrived at 221B Victoria was sit on the couch with her laptop on her knees not seeing anything too interesting since she looked at Sherlock the moment he stepped inside the flat, “What’s the matter, sugar cane? Looks like you saw a ghost”, she was smiling but her tone was a bit serious.

   Sherlock didn’t answer, just set his coat aside and walked to his bedroom with heavy steps, scowling. Once inside he closed the door and jumped on the bed, joined his long fingers together below his chin and started revising the things that happened on this very unusual day. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he only noticed Victoria was in the room when she spoke, “You do answer me when I talk to you, angel. It’s very rude to leave someone in a vacuum, Sherly, especially if this someone is your maker. Did you listen to me?” Sherlock nodded, when Vic used her motherly tone the man could not do anything but acquiesce, “Then answer me. What’s the matter?”

   “You’re imagining things”, Sherlock said simply. He really didn’t want to talk to Victoria about it. He didn’t even know what _it_ really was.

   “Sweet pie, you don’t fool me. I know you better than anyone, you know that”, she sat near him on the bed, “You couldn’t get the samples, that much is clear. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

   Sherlock hesitated for a moment, he had almost forgotten about the bloody lab, “No, it’s just this lab! I know where it is, but I cannot get there. I’ll need your help, Vic, and you know how much I hate to ask for help, even if it’s yours”, that would do to cover his other thoughts from her and would also resolve the problem.

   “It’s in a small place, isn’t it? I thought so, but I wanted you to make sure. After all, you know how much I hate being outside”, she spoken with a disdainful tone looking down.

   Victoria had a disorder called agoraphobia, which means she was afraid of being out, in crowed areas or any public place. She had it before she was turned and not even the vampire entity set her free of it. Sherlock’s maker was five hundred and thirty-six years old, and most of this time she spent hidden inside castles, mansions, houses, and currently a flat. She kept the old vampires habit of going out to hunt at dawn, it was very conservative but she felt safe.

   “I know. The way is through a tubing on the roof. The lab is somewhere down it, you’ll probably need to break something to get to the real deal”, Sherlock could remember John’s voice, low and sad.

   “Are you sure? No doubts?” Victoria sighed; she really loathed going out, “Alright then. Tomorrow night we go.”

\--

   Sherlock couldn’t sleep when he was human, so when Vic turned him it wasn’t much of a difference the time vampires needed to rest from how he was used to before. It was probably two pm on the other day, Victoria was sleeping in the upstairs room, and Sherlock was lying down his bed with his arms crossed over his face. He didn’t know why the boy’s words stroked him so hard. _He is just a human, a silly human._ A sad and silly human. But he was a different human too, wasn’t he? He’d stayed; he’d said ‘fantastic’; he’d lectured Sherlock; he’d left the roof _alive_. So it was only natural that he would stay in Sherlock’s mind, right? But Sherlock didn’t do _natural_. He was far from being bloody natural, he was a freak.

   At three pm Sherlock stood and went outside to hunt, he suddenly was very hungry. The sun wasn’t strong as it usually in London, so Sherlock’s vampire dexterities weren’t too damaged. He entered into a café, sat down and looked around. Quickly he realized three possible candidates. One waitress that certainly had showed interest in him, was single and had a kink for… Onions; one woman at the table across from him, late forties, terribly married, had problems with her dog and was considering using drugs; an old man that read the paper on the counter, windowed, had the flu and an amount of azaleas at home. Sherlock considered for a second and decided for the woman across him.

   It was quick business. Always the same way: pick one, stare them in the eye, take them to a close alley, suck the life outta them and leave them there. He was walking away from the woman’s body when he remembered Victoria saying that some important people were suspecting, and that he should leave no traces. Well, he never left traces anyway but he admitted never bothering to hide the fang marks. So he just lifted the body for a bit and tore the throat apart with his finger nails. Good thing he had forgotten to trim them yesterday then.

   The rest of the day passed fast enough. Sherlock started new experiments, a good way to occupy his mind from silly thoughts. He was fidgeting a very hard-to-get platypus tail when Victoria entered the kitchen, “Oh. I can’t believe it! I like animals, you should stop killing them, Sherly.”

   “It was already dead when I get it”, well, that was true, but he also knew the creature had died because he ordered it.

   “Anyways, it’s time, cupcake. Let’s go, I just want to be over it, okay?”, Vic said with a upset tone.

   Sherlock lifted his eyes from the fat tail to look at her. She was wearing leather boots, a green dress and her blonde waves were locked up in pigtails. Very child-like. Sherlock knew she hated and loved her child body. Hated because she would never have the beautiful curvilinear woman’s, and she couldn’t do things grown up people could, though she pretty much knew everything in theory. But she loved it because who could possibly imagine that an innocent kid could murder them with a single bite on the neck?

   Sherlock stood, put his dark blue coat on and they left.

   They had to take three taxis because Victoria killed the two first drivers, she literally drained them. Older the vampire was hungrier he would be. And she hadn’t hunted for two days. So when they arrived at the hospital his maker was in a better mood than when she left the flat. They entered and passed through the people there easily, they glared at anyone who would dare approaching them. Once on the terrace, Sherlock felt something weird in his stomach, something he never felt. Then he realized a familiar smell. _Sweet sauce and sea salt._ Sherlock’s eyes wandered the place and he was sure he would find him. _John._

   “There is a human nearby, Sherlock”, Victoria said and she used her vampire skills to sprint to the human scent. To John. Sherlock sprinted after her with the same incredible speed.

   And there he was. Next to the tubing, with a crowbar on his left hand that was dropped as soon as he saw the two vampires arriving from nowhere, “Sherlock”, the small blonde said.

   Victoria turned her gaze from John to Sherlock, “You know him? How… Oh, of course. He got down the tubing for you, that’s how you were sure”, Victoria stared at John again with a smug smile, “Well, he certainly is short enough.”

   “Look who’s talking”, John said with a grimace, “Who are you anyway?”

   “I could ask the same thing, boy”, Victoria said angrily, and turned to look to Sherlock again.

   “This is John. John Watson. Yes, he helped me to find the lab”, Sherlock gulped, “John, this is Victoria Holmes, my… Sister.”

   “I don’t know why you didn’t kill him back then, but I’ll end this now”, Victoria started walking in John’s direction but Sherlock grabbed her by the arm.

   “Isn’t it too late for kids to be out of bed?” John asked with a teasing smile on his flushed face.

   “Ah Sherlock, I’ll give you three seconds to let me go”, if Victoria were human she would definitely have a red face too.

   Sherlock let her arm go but rested his hand on her shoulder, “You don’t need to do anything to him, he won’t tell anyone, Vic. It’s okay.”

   “ _It’s okay?_ He’s a bloody human, they do nothing but gossiping around”, she growled and in a blink of an eye her fangs were down and her eyes were glowing.

   John took some steps back in shock, “Holy fuck! Wh-what are you? It’s not possible…”

   Victoria tried to move but Sherlock stood between her and John. _Why am I doing this?_

 

 


	5. Blown Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! 
> 
> This story is getting me extremely excited, and your support just make everything flows better!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, and please, forgive any mistakes.
> 
> ;*

 

_"Shatter every window 'til it's all blown away. Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away. 'Til there's nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday.”_

 

    John went to his home – now felt more like a house than anything – and tried to sleep. He couldn’t though, and he couldn’t go back to the funeral or to the burial either, he just ignored all calls on his cellphone. He hid his face on the pillow and shut his eyes real tight but no Morpheus came to drift him away. His mind was a hurricane swirling intensely nonstop, with images of the three coffins, his mother last words, dad’s smell, Harry’s pony tail, dark skies, police sirens, cold morgues, and Sherlock.

_What was that, anyway?_ John still didn’t understand what had happened. A total stranger stopped him from killing himself just so he could help him getting inside a mysterious tubing to find an even weirder locked room. And he didn’t know exactly why or what he would find there. And who was Sherlock Holmes? Those icy grey eyes kept haunting John, and that voice... The man didn’t even seem human, he looked like he was from another planet or universe. John had never seen such a beautiful person. A beautiful and dangerous person, John could recall. But this, this chill that ran through all his body was fascinating and oh so good. John didn’t comprehend how that attracted him so much.

   John spent the other day entirely inside his room, curled on his bed under the covers. He didn’t get up to do anything, his body appeared to be on pause. He just felt like jumping down that roof again. What was the point of staying here anyway? He wanted to be a doctor once, he just couldn’t wait to make his parents proud, but now that was all gone. How and why would he go to university? There would have no support, no smiling faces telling him ‘I know you’ll get it, love’; no time and money either, not even will. He couldn’t save their lives, he couldn’t save his life, how would he save someone else’s life?

   He wished the hurricane inside his mind would turn real and just rip him apart from this world, destroy everything he once was, he once knew. He just wanted to disappear. With this thought he was finally able to fall asleep, and he dreamed of secret rooms and dark figures that wanted to kill him, but in the end it was the lorry that fell down from the skies right on his head. He woke up five hours later panting and sweating, heart beating fast. John sat on the edge of the bed and put his hands on his flushed face. He waited a bit then decided to go take a shower.

   After a very good hot shower, he put on his old favorites jeans and his threadbare cream jumper. Black All Stars and a dark blue bonnet that his mother bought him once, she said it matched his eyes. He dressed his green moss coat that was a bit too big for him but was very cozy. Then he went to the kitchen and made some tea with toast which he ate in auto pilot. _It makes no sense if I do that. Why would I do that? It’s not my business…_ It was not indeed, but it was just so bloody appealing. All the sneaking and snooping, and all the danger that they implied. It gave him something to do, something to fear, something to expect. _I’ll do it_.

   He went to the garage, grabbed the crowbar and put on his backpack. He left his house and decided to call no taxi, he was going on foot. It was really late and dark, he liked better this way, because into the night nobody would see his wrecked features. He arrived at the hospital fast and did just like last time, didn’t stop for anyone who tried talking to him. When he got to the terrace, he went to the tubing and took the crowbar from the backpack. He’d go down and break the less, or at least try to.

   All his plans went downhill in the moment he saw the little girl glaring at him, and then… “Sherlock”, his mouth said with no permission.

   The little blonde girl looked at Sherlock, “You know him? How… Oh, of course. He got down the tubing for you, that’s how you were sure”, then she just turned to John again, “Well, he certainly is short enough.”

   “Look who’s talking”, John said suddenly very annoyed, “Who are you anyway?”

   “I could ask the same thing, boy”, the girl spoke like she was older than John, actually her voice had a funny timbre.

   “This is John. John Watson. Yes, he helped me to find the lab”, Sherlock said obviously nervous, “John, this is Victoria Holmes, my… Sister.”

   “I don’t know why you didn’t kill him back then, but I’ll end this now”, Sherlock’s sister than started to walk towards John like a panther but Sherlock grabbed her by the arm.

   “Isn’t it too late for kids to be out of bed?” John couldn’t resist, who this girl think she was trying to mess up when grownups were talking?

   “Ah Sherlock, I’ll give you three seconds to let me go”, she said.

   Weirdly Sherlock indeed let her arm go, but at least he rested his hand on her arm, “You don’t need to do anything to him, he won’t tell anyone, Vic. It’s okay.”

   “ _It’s okay?_ He’s a bloody human, they do nothing but gossiping around”, she squeaked and suddenly John saw… Fangs? Yes, fangs coming down inside her mouth! Like… Like bloody vampires! And all that talk about him being human… _What is going on here?_

    He couldn’t help but to stepped back a little frightened, “Holy fuck! Wh-what are you? It’s not possible…”

   Sherlock stood between her and John, and then the boy couldn’t see her. He could listen to them speaking clear enough though, and it just made him stand frozen with no reaction. _What did I just put myself into?_

   “Sherlock, don’t test me. If you don’t step aside right now I’m going to break your neck, and you know it’s going to take a while for you to put it back in place, and you also know how deathly bored you will be during the time”, her squeaky voice said, “Is he worth it? Is a human worth enough a broken neck? Is a bloody human worth defying your maker?!”

   “He won’t tell anyone! You’re connected to the world the whole day through your laptop, now tell me, have you seen any news about a secret lab on Bart’s?” Sherlock’s voice was low but had a brand tone, “He had the opportunity to tell anyone, but he didn’t. He won’t do it now.”

   “How can you believe that, Sherlock? Now he knows what we are, we have to destroy him. No human can know we exist, you know that Sherly! It’s against the bloody rules, goddamn it!”

   “Since when do you fucking care about the rules, Vic? There’s something about him, look into his eyes. You’re the one who keeps saying to me that the eyes are the reflect of our soul, that’s why vampire eyes are so inexpressive. Do you remember it?” Sherlock was putting his arms up, like in a white flag move.

   “That’s ridiculous! You don’t even sound like yourself! Where is my insensible heir? Where is my son who think humans are nothing but blood bags? I want, no, I _need_ him back! Right now. MOVE!”

   John perceived the girl was ready to pounce by what he could see of her legs. Instinctively he stepped back a few more times until his back was touching the cold tubing. He saw Sherlock dropping his hands on the sides, but he still didn’t move.

   “Sherlock Holmes. As your maker I command you to move away right fucking now!” Victoria shouted, her voice suddenly with a very clear Celtic accent.

   Sherlock’s body visibly quivered and he finally stepped aside, now the little girl was staring right through John. The boy looked at Sherlock, the man’s eyes were closed now, an adorable crinkle between his eyebrows. When John turned to look at Victoria again he realized her body was jumping in his direction, like a wild animal attacking its prey. But before she could reach John – who was still stuck on the same spot, with his hands clenched to the tubing behind him – Sherlock grabbed her from behind, gave two quick steps toward the roof border and flung the girl’s small body out of the building.

   John’s mouth opened in a ‘O’, “D-id you just k-kill her?”

   “No, I got us some time. Let’s go!” Sherlock said grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the terrace.


	6. Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!
> 
> Thank you so damn much for all the kudos and comments! It wouldn't be anything without them! (;
> 
> So, I just wanted to say something about this chapter, actually it's about the vampire mythology in general in my story. Since the vampire universe is so large, I decided to enjoy it and create my own kind of vampires, so I'm not following any particular rules about them, I preferred to make my own so I'd get more comfortable and also because that's how I always picture vamps in my weird mind.  
> You'll learn about them during the story, but this chapter has a great deal of explanation too.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! ;*

 

_“Crash, crash, burn, let it all burn. This hurricane's chasing us all underground. (..)There's a fire inside of this heart, and a riot about to explode into flames.”_

 

 _Sorry, Vic._ Sherlock squeezed John’s arm and pulled him closer behind running as fast as he could. He was still stunned for what he had just done. He flung his maker away. Victoria Theresa Holmes in all her wisdom and glory was picked up like a little doll and thrown away from the building by her ungrateful progeny. And Sherlock didn’t even regret it. He still couldn’t figure out exactly why he wanted to protect John so much, he just felt it. _Don’t be silly, Sherlock, you cannot feel anything._ Or could he? He had no time to think that, he needed to take John as far away from the place as possible.

   When they arrived at the cold desert street, Sherlock looked around searching for Victoria, but found no sign of his maker. She would take some time to recover from the fall, less time than he would though because she was much older than him. No one probably perceived that a little girl’s body fell from the building, it was almost dawn and these streets had nothing but beggars and drug addicted sleeping, from the Hospital windows they wouldn’t be able to catch a glimpse of her, Sherlock made sure Vic passed far away from them.

   He knew what he had to do now, but he really didn’t want to. He looked at John, the boy had his chubby cheeks pink and a scared frown on his sweet face, “Are you okay?” Sherlock asked. John nodded, blinking nervously. He needed to do it, he had no choice, “I need to call someone, John. Keep your eyes open.”

   Sherlock grabbed his phone and dialed the hateful numbers. It called one time only, “Hello, little brother.”

   “Mycroft, let’s skip the pleasantries. It pains me deeply what I’m about to say, but I’ll say it anyway: I need your help”, Sherlock spoke with a grimace on his pale face.

   “That much is clear. St. Bart’s. You’ll see a black car arriving on the corner in about thirty seconds, destination already spoken. You’re welcome”, and then he rang off.

   Sherlock rolled his eyes, he should’ve known his brother was observing him. He put his phone back into his pocket and turned his head to look at John. He was shivering a little and clasping his hands together anxiously, when his eyes met Sherlock’s the man had to hold the urge to put an arm around the boy’s shoulder. Fortunately the black car appeared as expected. They walked as fast as they could and when they entered into the car, Sherlock finally spoke, “Why were you here tonight, John?” The car started to move.

   The small boy hesitated a bit on his side, “I-I thought I could help, don’t k-know… S-sorry”, he looked like he was struggling not to cry.

   “You’re broken, John. You’re looking for something to make you feel alive. I’ve been there and done that”, Sherlock looked down a moment and then stared at the boy’s ocean eyes again. _The Mediterranean._

   John passed his hand on his sand hair nervously, cleared his throat and tried to keep his breathing even, “Who is Mycroft? Why is he helping us?”

   “He’s my brother. We don’t get along very well, in fact we don’t speak for years, though I’m sure he watches my every step daily”, Sherlock couldn’t hide the disdain on his voice.

   “Is he… Is he like you?” John asked sheepishly.

   “Yes”, Sherlock said and then realized everything he needed to explain to John, it was going to be a long talk, “You can ask, John.”

   “Are you really vampires? Like… Like the vampires from the books? H-how is this possible? I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes just some minutes ago, but it’s still so incredible and a little bit scary, no, a lot scary, and…” the boy said it all with one breath, the words jumbled together a bit.

   Sherlock couldn’t help to give him a small smile, “Yes, we’re vampires. And that depends on which book are you talking about. If you thought about Twilight, True Blood or The Vampire Diaries you’ll be disappointed. Take as a reference Bram Stoker and Anne Rice, we’re a mixture of what they wrote, some things right, and some things wrong.”

   “Y-you… Does the sun turn you to ashes?” John licked his bottom lip, eyes fixed on Sherlock’s.

   “No, but it will let us weaker. We’re like nocturnal animals, John, our natural habitat is at night, but during the centuries we learned how to adapt to live on daylight, otherwise too many people would suspect.”

   “So you’re really one hundred and sixty-nine years old?” John nervously chuckled.

   “Yes.”

   “The girl… Was she who bit you?” John’s mouth bent slightly.

   “Victoria. Yes, she turned me and Mycroft”, it was a long time since he had thought about it, that day looked so extremely far away, almost not real, like a forgotten dream, “But after a while Mycroft had to leave us. He was already a powerful human, so she was told to turn him so he could be the vampire’s eyes and ears in the government. He’s been doing that ever since.”

   “What about you? What do you do?” John was getting calmer. That made Sherlock relax more.

   “I’m a Consulting Detective. The only one in the world, I invented the job”, Sherlock’s tone was cheerful but a little smug, “My name is famous in the vampire net, I’ve already helped many of our kind. Some vampires can be as stupid as humans”, he looked at John feeling a bit guilty, “You are much more interesting than some vampires though.”

   John smiled and blushed; Sherlock liked this vision very much, “Do you… Drink our blood then?”

   “Yes”, that was a very sensitive topic, he needed to be careful, “Animal blood it’s not strong enough.”

   “Do you drink from blood bags from the hospital, or what your maker said is true? Y-You think _we_ are the blood bags?” John’s voice was almost a whisper now.

   “I-I…” Sherlock hesitated for a moment, he couldn’t scare the boy, “It’s not healthy to drink dead blood. Which means that… Yes, I feed directly from humans”, _I do not only feed, but I also kill them after. But you better let this off, Sherlock,_ “I used to think that until I met you, John”, that was half true. Sherlock would still drink from humans, but he would never feed from John.

   “Why? You… You saved my life, you fought your own maker for me. W-why?” John’s hands were clasping each other again.

   “You’re different. The way you speak, the way you act. Your eyes… You’re the first interesting human I’ve ever met, I just… Couldn’t let you go to waste for something so unsure”, Sherlock’s voice was rough and low.

   They stayed in silence for some minutes. Sherlock didn’t know what to say next, there were so many things to explain, but he was afraid to speak too much, “You can ask me anything, John, your curiosity is healthy natural.”

   John seemed to think hard for a moment, his brows frowning adorably, “Do you have any super powers?”

   Sherlock smirked, “Well, we are much stronger than humans, also much faster and more flexible. Our hearing and vision are more developed too.”

   “Can you hypnotize us?” John looked a bit more excited now; he was probably into superheroes as a child. _I’m so far away from being a hero, John._

   “No, but our persuasion is sharp. Our eyes, our voice, the way we move, it all influences people”, Sherlock passed a hands through his dark curls, “But it only works on weak minded people, so you don’t need to worry”, Sherlock gave a soft smile.

   Sherlock would never get tired of John’s golden cheeks turning red, “Does holy water hurt you? Garlic? Crucifixes? Do you need permission to enter a house?”

   “No, no, no and no. These are all silly legends. Our body can take everything except for a stake to the heart and a sword to the neck”, Sherlock grimaced thinking of the times he saw it happening to other vampires.

   “If they cut your head without staking your heart, would that kill you?”

   “No. It must be the two together. Heart and head. Then we’re gone”, for a second Sherlock imagined Victoria’s frown if she found out he was telling this to a human. But that would probably be the least of her worries or anger right now.

   “How deep is the bond with the maker?” John appeared to follow his line of thought.

   “It’s strong. We’re connected forever. Our blood is mixed, so the strongest sentiments the progeny feels, the maker will also feel. We also feel obliged to acquiesce to their commands, and it’s really painful to disobey”, Sherlock still had the sting sensation on his chest from attacking Victoria, “And if the maker dies, the offspring expectation life is reduced by half”, these were all things Vic had told him. She said her maker was dead and gone, so instead of living one thousand and seven hundred years – which was the average life of vampires – she would make it to eight hundred and fifty years, what meant that Sherlock and Mycroft would also live less.

   John yawned and rubbed his eyes with small hands, “Thank you for telling me. It will take a while to comprehend it all, to… Be sure that this is not a dream”, he giggled a bit, sleepy.

   “You should try to sleep now, it will take a few more hours until we get there”, Sherlock said softly.

   “Where’s there exactly?” John asked, his voice weak.

   “The Holmes Manor.”


	7. Born to Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos! It's always great to know what you think about the story, so don't be shy, step to the light... *Smaug's voice* haha okay, anyway
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, I have great plans for this fic! (;

 

_“Feet, don’t fail me now, take me to the finish line. Oh, my heart it breaks, every step that I take, but I’m hoping at the gates they’ll tell me that you’re mine.”_

 

   John had never seen such a beautiful place. Once they were out of the car, John couldn't walk and blink, he just kept staring at the gorgeous house in front of him. It was probably 10 times bigger than John’s home, with an enormous green garden filled with statues, well-pruned shrubs and all kinds of trees that John couldn’t name. The Manor was imperious, sumptuous and olden. It was made of red bricks, Victorian style, with small sharp towers, and big windows, “Bloody incredible”.

   He looked at Sherlock who was standing next to him, now smirking, “I spent my childhood here”, he started to walk and John followed him, not too fast so he could keep admiring the exterior, “Victoria doesn’t know this place exists.”

   “But… You said it’s called Holmes Manor. You said her name was Holmes there on the Hospital, right?” John was a bit confused but kept walking.

   “Yes, actually we only call the house Holmes because we changed our name after Victoria turned us, the real name is Scott Manor, our human family name”, when they got to the big door, a woman dressed in servant opened immediately, “Don’t worry, John, she won’t find us here. Even if she finds out, Mycroft will make sure she doesn’t get near us.”

   John entered the house after Sherlock. _Holy shit_. It was so large and so clean looking. All furniture very well located, the curtains and carpets just gave the place an even greater posh style. The servant smiled at them, John smiled back and wondered if she was a vampire too. She looked younger than Sherlock, had curly ginger hair tied in a bun and big light blue eyes, “Welcome, Mr. Holmes. Mr. Holmes told me you would come, we’re very glad to receive you after a long time.”

   “Thank you, Isadora. This is John Watson, and you give the orders to the others treat him like they would treat me and my brother”, Sherlock said with a gentle but commanding tone.

   “Of course, sir. He said you’d have a human with you, so we prepared him breakfast”, she said looking at John with a sincere grin. It was only then that John realized it was probably past seven in the morning and his stomach was indeed making annoying noises.

   “Thank you, I’m starving”, he said a bit embarrassed.

   “Would you like a bath first, Mr. Watson?” she asked.

   “Call me John, please. And yes, actually yes”, John was desperate for a shower. But he had no clothes.

   “We made up your room, there are clothes and everything you need there. Let’s go?” she gesture him to follow her up the stairs.

   John looked at Sherlock who nodded, “Go on, John, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

   The stairs looked like something out of a movie, when John thought he couldn’t get more impressed Isadora opened the door to his room. The boy did not dare to compare it to his old bedroom, it would be ridiculous. Deep blue curtains with clouds wallpaper on the ceiling and a big golden luminaire. His bed was in the middle of the room, looked so damn comfortable that John felt like jumping on it and burying his face onto the big pillows, but he kept calm.

   “The bathroom is here”, she pointed a door near a wooden bureau, “We’ve already warmed the water. You’ll find your clothes there too. Take your time, breakfast will be waiting.”

   “Thank you so much”, John said not believing, and before she turned to leave, he called, “Isadora right? You… You know about the vampires. Are you one or you’re just human like me?”

   “You’re the first human to enter this house since Mr. and Mrs. Scott passed away many years ago. Mr. Holmes doesn’t put much faith in humans to look after the place, so he hired us”, she said patiently.

   “But… You’re a vampire, you could be more than…”

   “A servant? Well, not really. We are much like them, it’s true. But aren’t you just like the rich humans too? The vampire social ways aren’t that different from human’s”, she smiled and waited for John to ask something else.

   “I have yet so much to learn about your kind. I find you all fascinating though”, he spoke nervously, “Thank you.”

   “No worries, sir.”

   “John”, he corrected gently.

   “John”, she gave him a wide smile and left the room closing the door behind her.

   That was the best bath John had ever taken. For fantastic thirty minutes he forgot everything that’s been going on in his life. His family death, his problems with the future, and the fact that he was the only human in the middle of a vampire estate. All of these didn’t bother him in the time he spent immersed in the bathtub. He could almost have hope again. But then the water got cold and he had to dress up and leave the comfortable emptiness.

   When he arrived at the kitchen, hair wet but combed and dressing clothes he would never be able to buy himself, Sherlock was at the table typing on his laptop. John sat in front of him and suddenly plates of milk and cornflakes, cups of tea, glasses of orange juice and toasts were all planted right there. He couldn’t help a hungry laugh before he attacked the food without even thinking about it. Some minutes passed before he could breathe right and look up to find Sherlock staring at him with a funny smile on his curious face.

  “What? I was starving and this food was just fantastic!” John said chuckling, his belly full.

  “That was certainly… Interesting”, Sherlock teased.

   “Says the vampire.”

   They both laughed, and John felt light, but he had to ask, “What do you think she’ll do?”

   “Victoria doesn’t take betrayal very well, actually she doesn’t take it well at all. I watched her…” Sherlock suddenly stopped and looked down, hesitating.

   “You can say it, Sherlock. I’m here with you, I won’t be scared”, and that much was true.

   Sherlock stared him in the eyes again, a calmer expression, “I watched her tearing a man apart once, limb from limb, I remember the look in her eyes as he writhed in pain on the floor, she only killed him five hours after she began her torture game. All of that because he betrayed her trust. And… He was part of her offspring. A brother of mine”, Sherlock’s tone was low, but his voice was full of what appeared to be remorse.

   “I… I’m sorry you had to watch that. Though I thought makers couldn’t kill their kids” John bit his bottom lip. _If she did that to her own kind, what would she do to me?_

   “They can, it will be an extremely painful experience though. But eventually the pain passes and the regret never comes.”

  “And… Could you kill her? Not that I’m suggesting or anything, I don’t mean that, it’s just that…” John’s words were all confusing now, he couldn’t explain himself well.

   “It’s okay, John”, Sherlock reassured him with a soft tone, “Yes, I could. But it would be the same pain.”

   “All my fault”, John’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. Not only from this moment, oh no, he was holding the tears since the accident. He was trying so hard to be strong, to be brave, to act more like a man than a boy. But all of this… His family was going to meet him when the lorry caught them, Sherlock was defending him when he betrayed his maker. How many lives he destroyed? Including his own. All because he was a weak stupid boy.

  And the tears came.

  “John”, Sherlock exclaimed as he stood and faster than John’s eyes could see he was beside John, with an arm around his shoulder, “Stop it. It’s not your fault. Nothing of this is. People make their own choices, John, and you can’t assume responsibility for our acts. Okay?”

   John sobbed and in an impulse hid his face on Sherlock’s chest. He felt strong arms around him and a chin touching the top of his head, “I-I…”, he tried to say in vain.

  “You care too much, John. You want to make sure everyone is safe and sound, you do everything you can, but sometimes things are out of our hands. You couldn’t do anything to stop it”, the boy kept crying, soaking Sherlock’s dark coat, “I’m sure you made your parents very proud while they were alive. And… Did you know that you made _me_ proud by going back to the hospital? You wouldn’t give up, would you?”

  John pulled away slowly, rubbing his face with his hands and then staring at Sherlock who looked worried and confused, “Thank you for everything, Sherlock.”

  “No, John. Thank you”, he touched John’s flushed cheeks with cold pale hands, “Thanks to you I don’t feel lonely for the first time in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how I pictured the Manor:
> 
> http://theglobalpilgrim.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/1871.jpg


	8. Monsoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello cupcakes!
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and comments!
> 
> If you're thinking the chapters are too slow I'm sorry, but I need them to be a bit slow so I can throw you the action later. Alright? Everything there is a purpose here (;
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! ;*

 

_“I'll know I have to find you now. Can hear your name and don't know how. Why can't we make this darkness feel like home? Running through the monsoon, beyond the world to the end of time where the rain won't hurt, fighting the storm, into the blue. And when I lose myself I'll think of you.”_

 

   When Sherlock was human, he lived surrounded by aristocratic people, not only his family, but other relatives and all those annoying party’s guests, powerful and bored. Sherlock really thought his life would suffer a great overturn when Victoria turned him, but few things really changed. All the stupid human clients were replaced by stupid vampire clients. He lived with Victoria, it’s true, but he could never call her friend. Their relationship was as cold as they were, though sometimes Vic tried to be a sweet heart, which usually ended up with Sherlock grimacing.

   Then John appeared into his life, and he just changed everything in a blink of an eye. He first met John two days ago, and the boy had already found a way to touch him in a way he thought to be impossible. Sherlock was still confused. They barely knew each other but Sherlock had never felt that better next to a person in entire life. They clicked from the moment John tried to trick him after he came back from the tubing. That small blonde sad boy left him speechless, and no one could do that to Sherlock Holmes. _And his eyes…_ John’s eyes reminded him of the Mediterranean, one of his last memories as human, one of his happiest memories.

   He was indeed the most interesting human being Sherlock had ever met, and he was so young, and so broken. But also smart, brave, curious, careful, gentle, stubborn and innocent. He could see all these qualities when John spoke and looked at him. Sherlock had this constant creeps in his stomach every time John was near, and then the boy started to cry and Sherlock’s body felt devastated. He didn’t understand, he just wanted to make him stop crying, he couldn’t see John like that, any human would say that he was heart-broken with the scene, but Sherlock knew better. He couldn’t feel anything. _So what is this that you feel for the boy?_ Part of him wanted to scream _Curiosity!_ But another part of him always shouted louder _Sentiment!_ Which could make Sherlock laugh, he didn’t do sentiment. Well, he didn’t laugh though, because he honestly didn’t know if that was still true.

_Damn it, John. You turned everything upside down._

   It was night, Sherlock sat on his old father’s armchair with hands below his chin, his mind wandered through everything that’s been going on. He heard John coming down the stairs, “Can’t sleep?”, he asked when the boy threw himself on the couch next to the fireplace.

   “No, too many things to think. What about you? Do vampires sleep?” he questioned while stretching and holding a pillow against his cheek.

   “Yes, of course. But while you need sleep at least six hours a day, we only need two”, Sherlock rested his arms on the chair, “I never slept too much when human anyway.”

   “I used to sleep a lot, now…”, John was interrupted by the noise of cars arriving outside, he suddenly stood up, “What’s this?”

   “Mycroft”, Sherlock didn’t stand up and he gesture John to sit down again, “Oh that will be boring.”

   “He’s the most powerful vampire in the country and you think he’s boring?” John sounded thunderstruck.

   “Extremely. You’ll understand soon”, he spoke with a blank face.

   Sherlock heard the door being unlocked and heavy steps coming closer. John looked nervous, kept passing his hands through his messy hair. Mycroft simply entered the living room and sat on the armchair that stayed across from the couch John was on, “Little brother. Mr. Watson”, he greeted.

   Sherlock didn’t answer, just stared at the fireplace. John tried a half smile, “Hi Mr. Holmes, please call me John.”

   “You are something else indeed, aren’t you John?” Mycroft’s voice was free of any kind of emotion, as usual. Sherlock look at him and he saw a playful grin that didn’t match his cold eyes. Eyes like Sherlock’s.

   “W-what do you mean?” John asked, his voice cracking a bit.

   “What are you doing here, Mycroft? Don’t you have other people to boss around?” Sherlock decided to cut the subject, it could be dangerous.

   “I came to check if you two were settling fine.”

   “We’re marvelous”, Sherlock gave him a fake smirk.

  “And to update you about your current… Situation”, Mycroft’s tone was tired. When Sherlock didn’t answer, now really interested, his brother went on, “Victoria is already recovered but is still on Baker Street. I checked her e-mail accounts and her ID but couldn’t find anything that connected her with the vampire searching network. She really doesn’t seem to be looking for you, but we both know that’s not true.”

   Sherlock considered for a moment, “She’s planning it before, she’s architecting the whole thing. When she’s done she’ll try to use her human connections, so don’t ignore that. Keep an eye in _everything_ she does.”

  “That’s what I’m doing, Sherlock. But we both know her, you better than me. She won’t give up until she finds you”, Mycroft spoke coldly, “We need to get her first.”

   “Kill her?” John asked, his eyes wide open and his arms folded.

   “How do you suggest us to do that, Mycroft? It’s against the rules. I don’t follow the bloody rules myself – who does anyway? - but this is the one rule that they actually take it seriously. The one rule they get you for”, Sherlock was standing now, he started to pace around the circle of chairs.

   “I’m the government, Sherlock, I’m sure I can put this under the carpet. Nobody hears from the Ancients for a long time, I haven’t been notified of a single execution or audition for ages”, Mycroft hit the head of his umbrella on the floor absently, “Victoria herself, she killed Carl and nothing happened to her. She’d kill you and nothing would happen to her. We take her and nothing will happen to us.”

   “Why are you on our side? You should hate me. You should want to kill me too. I’m the reason you’re turning against your maker”, John said now standing.

   “I’m not only doing this for you. Let’s say I’m enjoying the opportunity, John”, Mycroft stared at John severely but not threatening, “After we’re done with this mess, though, we’ll need to see what we’re going to do with you.”

    John’s small body shivered.

   “No, _we_ won’t. You help us get rid of Victoria, and then go back minding your own business”, Sherlock said, glaring seriously at his older brother.

  “You’re my business, Sherlock. And you can’t possibly think I’ll just let a human knowing our existence without doing anything about it.”

   “I trust John. I know he won’t say anything.”

   “You barely know him, Sherlock. What’s into you?” Mycroft stood up, hand on his umbrella.

   “It’s true, Mr. Holmes, we barely know each other. But I can honestly say Sherlock is my friend, because…” John’s voice broke, “When I needed him, he was there for me. Twice now. And maybe it is indeed beyond our comprehension, things happened too fast, but… Sherlock saved me in many ways, and my parents raised me well”, Sherlock could see tears forming on his eyes and his cheeks turning red, “I’d never do anything to hurt him, in fact, I’d do everything in my reach to make sure he’s alright. Don’t believe in my human’s word then, but believe in a desperate boy who had nothing to live for and now found a reason.”

   Sherlock clenched his fists on his sides not to go hug that strong and yet so fragile boy next to him. He wouldn’t do that in front of Mycroft, John wouldn’t like that. So he looked at his brother who had very curious look on his pale face as he stared at John.

   He gave a soft, almost imperceptible, laugh that Sherlock couldn’t figure out what it meant, “Very well. I’ll leave you two now, I need to deal with some other things. Any news I’ll call you. I’ll probably have it all organized by Wednesday, then you go with me and we finish this”, he simply said walking towards the door, “Good night, Sherlock. Good night, John.”

  “Good night, Mr. Holmes”, John said a bit calmer than before but as confused as he once was.

  Sherlock said nothing and just stared at the ceiling while Mycroft closed the door behind him. When he heard the lock, he immediately pulled John to his arms, “You’re very good with words, you know? You little hedgehog, I can barely see your movements”, Sherlock let him go a bit so he could stare him in the eyes, “Everything you said… I can say the same thing. You’re the first true friend I have, and you also saved me in ways I don’t even understand. And all of this in mere two days. How’s that?” Sherlock chuckled, touching the boy’s hair with his fingertips.

  “I believe we make our own destinies, so I don’t regret any of my decisions so far. If I’m to be honest,” John touched Sherlock’s jaw.

  “Me neither, John”, Sherlock kissed his forehead.

_Oh fuck it, maybe I can feel things after all._


	9. Into the Open Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Thank you all for comments and kudos!
> 
> So, I'd like to say that I'll be posting a new chapter everyday until I conclude this part of the series. I've already written it all but I don't want to throw everything in your faces at once, so LOL
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! ;*

 

_“How did we let it come to this? What we just tasted we somehow still miss. How will it feel when this day is done and can we keep what we've only begun?”_

 

   When Wednesday arrived, John had even forgotten what it implied. The four days he passed in the manor were fantastic, he felt like a prince or something. All the servants couldn’t treat him better, when he woke up there was a table full of morning food, and he was so excited that he ate everything, after all it was for him anyway. Afternoons were passed into the libraries or in the garden, his two favorite places in the house. Sometimes he just liked to watch Sherlock working on some weird experiment in his lab on the basement. And sometimes the detective vampire just liked to watch John writing notes about some medical books he took on the library, like that gave him some peace or something. Other times Sherlock disappeared from the house and John knew what he was doing.

   When John was in a talkative mood he went to the scullery or to the servants’ house to talk with some of them. It’s not that Sherlock didn’t talk to John, he did and most of the times he was very patience, but John knew sometimes the vampire was on the edge of asking John to disturb someone else, he just didn’t want to be mean to the boy or something like this, John thought. This time he was sit on a straw chair on the balcony of Isadora’s room. She didn’t mind – or at least John supposed – John’s visits, they become good friends in the time John was there. She was nice, gentle and maybe too polite. John knew more things about her now, like that she was one hundred and three years old, her two sisters and mother were also servants in the house, her father was the one who turned the family, though he vanished some years later leaving them alone.  

   The other servants were two cousins, and two siblings. Isadora said that there were no one from the Scotts time there. When Mycroft inherited the place after their death, he made sure to hire only vampire – as she had said before – but not only that, he made sure to hire abandoned vampires’ families. She said he knew they would be true to each other and there wouldn’t be problems working together. Isadora’s two sisters were Melody and Patricia, and her mother was Melanie. The youngest was Melody, and she freighting reminded John of Victoria, with her child body and curly long hair. Though all of them had orange hair like Isadora, something John found adorable.

   The two cousins were called Bethany and Louise; they had beautiful dark skin and big dark eyes. They worked more in the garden, and they did a fantastic work there. John had only talked to them twice, and they seemed nice but really shy. Funny, John thought, he could never picture vampires as being shy, but then again, he could never picture vampires being real. He sipped his tea Isadora prepared to him while he watched her sew an old dress.

   “What about the two siblings? I’ve never seen them around”, John asked.

  “Mr. Holmes sent them to the south to do… Something, I’m not sure of what really”, Isadora said without looking her eyes from her work, “They are… Different.”

   “Different? Different how?” John frowned in curiosity.

   “Nobody knows much about them, the only thing I’m sure is that they are from the Lands”, she said with a worried tone. John had never heard that tone coming out of her mouth before, that piqued his curiosity even more.

   “The Lands? You mean Romania, right?” John didn’t only read about medical stuff, he searched a lot about vampirism in the family library, but he only found one or two books about it.

   “That’s right. They speak with that grave accent, and they look very exotic too, though they never bothered talking to us, very reclusive those two”, Isadora lifted her eyes and shook her head.

   “What are their names?” John asked before take another sip of tea.

   “Iolanda and Ioan.”

   “Why would Mycroft ask them to do something out of the house?” John suddenly wanted to meet these two very much.

   “He often does. They’re not normal servant like us, they’re more of… Action. I don’t know how to put into words”, she looked honest.

   “Do you think they’re like… Killers?” John leaned forward, curiosity overflowing from him.

   “We’re all killers, John”, Isadora stared at him, with gentle but serious clear blue eyes.

  “John!” Sherlock’s voice called from below the balcony. John stood and looked at him, leaning on his elbows, “Come down, Mycroft’s here.”

   John let the cup on the nearest table, kissed Isadora fast on her cheeks, smiled and ran down. Sherlock was a vision as usual. His lean and pale figure covered with dark trousers and his familiar dark blue coat, with high collars that only made his mysterious face more mysterious. John loved all the dark combination that was Sherlock Holmes, so he was smiling when Sherlock caught him by his elbow and walked him to the front of the manor where two black cars were waiting for them.

   “Are we going to London? Did Mycroft set everything up?” he asked flustered trying to keep up with Sherlock’s big steps.

   “Mycroft and I are going to London, you are going somewhere else,” when they arrived Sherlock turned and put his hands on John’s shoulders, “Somewhere safe. Only until we finish everything.”

   “What? No! I caused all of this, I…”

   “Stop John, I thought we agreed that was not the case. I don’t want you near Victoria, you will go where we’re sending you and you will stay there. That’s not a point of discussion, the decision is made”, he said, now putting a hand on John’s back pushing him to one of the black cars.

   “Decision? Nobody asked my opinion! You can’t decide things for me. I don’t  want to be hidden like some damsel in distress, Sherlock!” he pulled Sherlock’s hand away and turned to face him.

   “John, you want to help us take care of everything?”

   “Of course, I…”

   “So”, Sherlock cut him off with a sharp tone, “You’ll help us being safe. If you go with us to London it will distract us from the real task because we’ll have to keep an eye on you the whole time”, Sherlock tried to sound calmer but his scowl gave him away.

   “John”, came a known voice from behind him, “Enter in the car. You’ll be taken care of where we’ll send you; and don’t worry, it will be only for one night. Now, if you please.”

   John pouted and folded his arms, not moving. Sherlock sighed and took his face in his hands, “Do that for me. Please.”

   John looked down then up to Sherlock’s face, he looked more worried than mad, “Okay, Sherlock. Come back to me, will you?”

   “I will. Be safe for me, will you?” Sherlock smiled and kissed his hair.

   “I’ll try. Dangerous seem to follow me around”, John giggled before tiptoeing to kiss Sherlock’s temple lightly.

   “Let’s go, we wasted enough time already”, Mycroft called entering the biggest black car.

   Sherlock gave John one last squeeze and let him go, getting inside the car after his brother. John gave a sad smile and got into the other black bright car. He lied down on the leather seat and stared outside the windows, watching the trees passing by when the car started to move.


	10. He Won't Go

 

_“Wake me up when all is done, I won't rise until this battle's won. My dignity's become undone, but I won't go, I can't do it on my own.  If this ain't love, then what is? I'm willing to take the risk.”_

 

   London was dark when Sherlock and Mycroft arrived on Baker Street. Their car was parked a few blocks away from 221B, “I put three snipers around the place, if she tries anything they’ll shoot her in the heart. We’ll go inside with two of my men, they’re very well trained to get old vampires like her”, Mycroft said with a low but calm voice.

   “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that”, Sherlock sighed, “Where’s the prison we’re putting her?”

  “In an island I bought some time ago. There is a large banker made of lead with everything tidy and clean for her. In my opinion it’s more than she deserve”, Mycroft looked outside his window.

   “She’s not all that bad, she’s… Tolerable”, Sherlock said putting his gloves on, “She protected me in some occasions.”

   “That doesn’t change the fact that she would tear you apart in the first opportunity she had now. You know how fantastically she takes betrayal. Well, who can blame her after all”, Mycroft spoke and left the car.

   “It’s bad it came to this, but I don’t regret anything, Mycroft”, he said opening his door and leaving the car as well.

   “I know that, little brother. It’s pretty clear every time you look at your human’s face”, Mycroft said when they started to walk side by side, suddenly being followed by his brother’s body guards.

  “John is not _my_ human”, Sherlock fisted his hands on his sides, he didn’t know why that disturbed him so much. _Maybe because you do want him to be your human,_ “He’s a friend.”

   “For now”, Mycroft’s tone was amused, “You change when you’re around him. You act all protective and… Sentimental”, the last word was spit with disdain.

   “I don’t get sentimental, Mycroft”, Sherlock snapped, suddenly wanting to punch his brother very much.

   “Oh no? What about that kiss? That wasn’t sentimental at all, was it?” Mycroft teased.

  Sherlock put a hand on his arm and stopped both of them, they were really near the familiar green door, “What if I feel, Mycroft? Vampires can still feel. We just feel differently, in a more intense and consuming way. Still, that…”

   “I know vampires feel, little brother, maybe you’ve forgotten I’m also one”, Mycroft gave a little crooked smile, “The thing is that _you_ , William Sherlock Scott Holmes, always despised the idea of love.”

   “I have never felt it before, and I judge by all those stupid people acting dumb over someone else. I always thought it’s a waste of time, frankly I still think it is. But between John and I it’s different…” Sherlock’s tone went low and he looked down.

   “It’s different because it’s you who are feeling, and you are not stupid or common, isn’t it?”

   Sherlock lifted his eyes to stare at his older brother. For how long would he keep pretending to himself that what Mycroft just said wasn’t true? He knew he had feelings for John, strong feelings; feelings he had never felt for anyone before. But was still too stubborn to try to give name or to comprehend it. Though deep down he was pretty sure of what it was called, “Let’s go, Mycroft. Enough with the cheap chat.”

  The men gave a few more steps and stopped in front of the door while Sherlock removed the key from his pocket and unlocked it. They went upstairs without making a sound. That was a very good thing about being a vampire, they were like blood-sucking ninjas. When Sherlock touched the knob, it was expectably opened already. Sherlock entered first, looking and listening around to see if Victoria was near them. Mycroft told him some hours ago that he had let Victoria believe through some connections in common that he’d try to attack her on Friday afternoon, so it was to be expected their maker to be on the flat, but everything was way too quiet.

   One of Mycroft’s body guards entered after Sherlock, he was holding a dark wooden stake in his hands. Sherlock slowly walked to the kitchen, body tensed and hands prepared to grab. Bless that because in a minute everything was calm, in the other there were two huge men jumping on him with katana swords. Sherlock diverted from the first strike and kicked the man on his calf, the body guard grabbed the second man from behind and threw him on the table. Sherlock’s attacker stood up very fast and tried to blow him on the waist but he jumped back and then somersaulted to hold the man’s head with his tights, in one snap he broke the big man’s neck. When Sherlock got to the floor he grabbed the lackey’s sword but when he went to pierce him he perceived the guy was dead. The detective frowned and kneed to check the pulse just to make sure, and yes… He was dead, which means he was human.

   Sherlock looked around and saw blood right beside him, the body guard had craved the stake into the other attacker’s heart but didn’t cut the head off, then he realized the same thing: the man was human. Mycroft and the second guard were just finishing fighting other two men that appeared out of nowhere. His older brother prong his attacker’s head with the tip of his umbrella and was examining the body, “Humans”, he said dryly.

   “Yes, all of them. Victoria always liked to use human as lackeys, she knows that…” Sherlock’s eyes got wide and his entire body stiffened.

  “What? Sherlock?” Mycroft scowled; Sherlock ran urgently to his bedroom. Nothing, then he ran to Victoria’s bedroom. Nothing. She wasn’t in the flat. _Fuck no no no no._

   “She did that before, Mycroft! She used humans attackers as a distraction while she was doing the real shit herself”, Sherlock passed his hands on his face, nervously, “She didn’t mean to kill us, she just wanted to distract us, make us waste our time while she… John! Mycroft, she knows where John is!”

   “Calm down, Sherlock. There is no way she can possibly know where he is, I took all pre…”

   “Yes, you also took the precautions for her to be here right now, no? Is she here, Mycroft? Oh fuck, she will kill him, Mycroft! She’s going after him right now! We need to get there first!” Sherlock dropped the sword on the floor and was ready to make a run when his brother grabbed his forearm.

   “John is in a estate that is off track, Sherlock. She couldn’t find our family Manor, how would she find the lake house?” Mycroft said calmly.

   “Or maybe she knows where the manor was, but she also knows it’d be stupid to try get us there. She’s smart, Mycroft, she knew we would try to grab her here, and that we probably would hide John someplace else to deviate her in case she tried the Manor while we weren’t there. So she found a way to track John’s whereabouts and that’s where she is now. Victoria was always one step ahead of us, Mycroft!”

   “Sherlock, you’re overreacting…”

  “I’m going there with or without you. But I really could use your help, brother” Sherlock said with the sterner tone he could use.

   “Fine, but I’m telling you, she’s probably hiding someplace else.”

   When they were both in the car, Sherlock stared at the window, watching London passing by, drowning on his thoughts. He couldn’t let anything happen to John; just the thought of him being hurt did something terrible with Sherlock’s guts. He just wished Mycroft’s driver could go faster even if he had to run over some stupid pedestrians on the way. If he were human his hands would be sweating and his cheeks would be red, eyes probably heavy with salty tears. He bit his lower lip and tried to control himself, tried to think that this kind of worries were not part of him. He didn’t even know John a week ago, how could he be so desperate to make sure he’s safe? It’s neither normal nor usual, especially for Sherlock. He kept saying that so himself, but when he tried to imagine what it would be if he found John dead… And what would life be without him. No more pink chubby cheeks, no more warm smiles, no more sandy hairs touching his nose every time he kissed him there; no more watching his sweet brows frowning when he didn’t understand something he was reading. No, no way he could live without John now. He realized he lived long enough without the boy already, and he would do everything and more to keep John alive and beside him. Yes, he cared about John. No, it was not only for curiosity. He couldn’t deny it anymore. He was long gone from the beginning.

   “I love him, Mycroft.”


	11. Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!
> 
> Thanks for the support and kudos!
> 
> This chapter has some bloody and violent business, hope you don't mind. I'm not very good at writing action scenes, but I hope you can follow it.
> 
> Forgive my grammar mistakes as usual!  
> Hope you enjoy ;*

 

_“I find shelter in this way, under cover, hide away. Can you hear when I say? I have never felt this way. (…) Can I be, was I there? It felt so crystal in the air. I still want to drown whenever you leave. Please teach me gently how to breathe.”_

 

   John was bored. The lake house was an adorable little thing, that much was true. It felt safe too, with two giant guards outside the house and two inside it. But the place was too small and no one would talk to him! He was crossed legged on the couch, one hand on his chin and the other tracing invisible patterns on his jeans. He wished Sherlock came back soon and took him away to the manor saying that everything was okay. He was sure this would happen, but apparently not soon enough. John decided to lie down on the couch staring at the ceiling. The house was all made of wood, but he could see that it was also very strong and well made, probably old. It was composed by a bedroom that John thought too claustrophobic; a kitchen that had only a few shelves and a table; a bathroom way too humid in John’s opinion. Everything tidy and clean, but boring as hell.

   “So, how old are you two?” John tried again, “Are you brothers?”

   No one answered him again, so he sighed. No books, no telly, no laptop. Only old paintings and fishing rods hanged on the bloody walls. John shifted on the couch and his eyes caught sight of a radio. A very old and big radio. He stood up and pressed lots of buttons until one of them turned the thing on. A loud muffled sound came from inside it and John almost jumped back scared. He looked at the guards that didn’t move one muscle and rolled his eyes. Then he tried to synchronize the thing but all that came was more muffled sounds, some with weird voices and country songs. He gave up and turned it off. _No vampires, looks like I’m going to die by boredom._

   And in that moment he thought he heard a noise coming from the outside. He went to one of the windows but saw nothing, “Did you guys hear anything?” But the men just kept staring ahead, that meant they didn’t then. John sat on the couch again, hands on his knees now. He almost wished he could hear the noise again, just so he could get a bit of false emotion in the place. And then he heard. It was like someone was walking around the place, grass being stepped on and bushes being pulled aside. But he knew that if it was a threat the guards outside would have taken it down already. Right?

  Suddenly John listened to what sounded like someone falling on the ground, heavy noises really close to the door. Those made the guards look at each other and pulled their stakes of their black suits. John stood up, hands clasping and body extremely tense. _Maybe it’s Sherlock_ , he foolish thought. When one of the interior guards opened the door he was met with what looked like a golden axe right into his head, and before the other guard could do anything Victoria cut his head off with the same object, then she quickly put their bodies one above the other and shoved the axe into their hearts, “Two birds with one stone. Or should I say four?”, she said smiling, with blood streaming down on her once adorable face, “Five with you.”

  John’s body froze, just like the first time he saw her. Sherlock’s maker was wearing a yellow dress, white sneakers and her blonde braiding falling down from a red hood. She looked like an evil version of Red Riding Hood, and her grin was malign, “Why John, looks like it’s only you and me now.”

  She took her time cleaning the axe with the dead guard’s clothes, glaring to John the entire time. When she finished she slowly walked towards the boy who just couldn’t move, what would be the point of moving after all? _I wish it was you, boredom, to kill me._ He wished he could laugh at it, but there was an angry old powerful vampire coming in his direction with an axe that looked like it came from a Lord of the Rings movie.

   “Hi Victoria, how are you?” he managed to say. Well, fuck it, he was going to die, better to enjoy his last minutes. Or maybe, only maybe, someone could notice Victoria was here and come rescue him, so he could gain time. Though this thought didn’t seem quite possible right now.

   The girl laughed, “I’m feeling incredibly fine! Jesus, it’s been awhile! What about you, John?” she kept walking very slowly with the weapon swinging on her right hand.

   “Oh I’m great. So, do you mind telling me how you’re going to do it?” he was surprised with himself for being able to speak with such an apparent calm.

   “Oh I’m glad you asked!” she stopped walking and rested the axe on the floor for a moment, “I actually want to do it slow and calmly. Torturing a human is not near as fun as torturing a vampire, you see, because we can take much more than your fragile bodies, but oh well, I’ll try my best to entertain myself”, she giggle, and the sound that should be angelical was pretty demoniac.

   “And how are you going to do that?”

  “I’ll start with your feet and hands, slice them really slowly, like you’d cut a ham. Then I’d taste your blood, of course, see if trash tastes good”, she laughed again, “Next I’ll make you look like that game Operation, you know? But you’ll be alive, don’t worry, otherwise it wouldn’t be fun, right? After I’ll—“

   A dark figure jumped on Victoria before she realized and threw her away near the kitchen, the axe falling on the ground. John couldn’t see who was exactly because the vampire moved extremely fast, in a blink of an eye the figure was taking the girl’s bewildered body from the floor and throwing her again now on the table, John heard the loud snap of body being smashed on the wood. She tried to fight them, but somehow he or she was stronger and faster. With one move the shadowed person put his hands inside Victoria, ripping her heart out and hurling it behind their shoulder, then with a second move the figure grabbed Victoria’s neck with both hands and squeezed and twisted before pulling it away from her body, it slammed on the floor heavy and bloody.

   John’s eyes were filled with tears and he wasn’t aware of when he started vomiting, but there he was, throwing up everything he ate that day in a corner next to the couch. Suddenly his body felt to heavy and he kneed on the floor, gasping and breathing hard. _What the fuck was that?_ He closed his eyes and took some moment to open them again. He cleaned his mouth with his sleeves and turned his head to look at the vampire responsible for the awful scene he had to endure.

   A man, his body was turned probably around late twenties; dark brown hair falling straight at the height of his chin; big hazel eyes that were staring right at John’s quivering body; a nose that was big but not rude, and plush pink lips; he was way too handsome to be way too cruel. _He saved your arse, stupid thing. Victoria was the cruel one,_ his mind reminded him. But the image of his bloody hands ripping her heart and head out of her body was too overwhelming; he had never seen such terrible thing. The boy took deep breaths before he could finally stand, legs trembling.

   “Everything okay here?” A female voice with an exquisite accent said.

   John looked at the door and the female version of the guy just calmly entered the house, arms folded. “Yes, just a really bit messy, that’s all”, the man said as calm as the girl. _How can they talk like it was not big deal what just happened?_

  “What about the kid, is he hurt?” She asked with tilting her head at John that was still too scared to speak.

  “Guess so”, the man said simply, shrugging.

  “I-I’m fine…” he was able to say, hands shivering, “W-Who are y-you?”

   The woman’s cellphone buzzed, she picked it up to read the message, “Boss is arriving in ten. Let’s clean this mess before he arrives or we’ll get our ears full of how this place belonged to his dear family and shouldn’t be profaned and blah blah.”

   She walked to pick up Victoria’s axe from the floor and then to the guards’ corpses, lifting the both of them on her shoulders, she left the house. John was impressed and still a bit scared. “Who a-are your b-boss?” He asked the man who was picking Victoria’s pieces from the floor.

  “You know who he is”, he said without looking at John.

  John’s mind was all so confused that he didn’t put the puzzles together. The exotic features, the practical air, the strong accent, the boss…”You’re Ioan, and that’s your sister Iolanda.”

  “Yes, congrats”, he said in a bored tone.

   John sat on the couch while Ioan took what was left of Victoria outside. He didn’t even want to think what they were going to do with all the vampire corpses. So many. The two guards outside, the two inside, and Victoria. How would Sherlock react to Victoria’s death? She was a mean little bitch, but she was still his maker. Was he in pain right now? Or not? John knew Sherlock’s life was reduced to half now, which made him feel even guiltier.

  When the siblings were done cleaning the place, it looked pretty much like before Victoria appeared there. John almost jumped out of the couch when he heard a car parking near the house. He knew this time was Sherlock. He ran outside and grabbed his favorite vampire by the waist, hiding his flushed face on his chest. Sherlock hugged him tight with his strong lean arms. It took some time for John to notice he was sobbing.

  “Shh it’s okay. Everything is okay now, my love” Sherlock said taking John’s face in his hands, “You’re safe, we’re safe. Nothing will bother us anymore.”

  John suddenly didn’t care who was watching them, he just grabbed Sherlock’s beautiful face and closed their mouths together. First it was cold but then John’s lips warmed Sherlock’s and when their tongues met was like heaven. John doesn’t know how long the kiss lasted, all he knew is that they were interrupted by Mycroft clearing his throat.

  “Very beautiful. Sherlock, if you don’t mind I’d like to leave this place now”, the grumpy older man said.

  They pulled away a bit, but Sherlock hold their hands together. “Let’s go home”, he said looking at John.


	12. This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo!
> 
> So, this is the last chapter! Fear not if you enjoyed the story though, 'cause it will be a series. Part 2 is already being written, I'll post it during this week, so check on it if you want to continue reading this universe (;
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! It's being great going through this experience with your feedback and support. 
> 
> Forgive my grammar mistakes, and I hope you all enjoy the end of part 1! Thanks!
> 
> ;*

 

_“This is the start of something beautiful. This is the start of something new. You are the one that will make me lose it all. You are the start of something new. (…) You are the earth that I will stand upon. You are the words that I will sing.”_

 

   Saying something is bittersweet means saying that the thing was half bitter and half sweet, so Sherlock could never say that Victoria’s death was bittersweet, because it was way too sweet and just a bit bitter. He didn’t feel the hardcore pain he’d have felt if he was the one to kill her, but he and Mycroft did feel a small sting to the chest, like a warning. But it was gone as soon as Sherlock put his eyes on John. The beautiful boy was alright, alive and with him. With Sherlock.

   The days after Victoria’s death were stirred, and for Sherlock’s discontent they were also full of Mycroft. His older brother proved to be very useful though. He ensured their maker’s kill was swept right under the rug, in a place not even dust would accumulate. He also made sure to clean up all the mess in 221B, that’s why it took a week for John and him to go back there. Which the detective realized it wasn’t an issue at all for John, since the boy seemed to enjoy pretty much his family’s Manor. Sherlock even perceived that he was trying to talk to Ioan and Iolanda, his curiosity up in flames; he was never able to, though, the siblings didn’t like humans, but Sherlock wouldn’t be the one to tell John, of course. But he was tempted do to so one night while they were still there, lying down on the hearth carpet in Sherlock’s childhood bedroom.

   “What do you know about them? Do you know how old they are? What else do they do to your brother? How did he find them?” John had his head on Sherlock’s chest and a hand crossing his waist.

   Sherlock sighed, a bit annoyed, “I know nothing about them, John. Please, stop asking.” He did know some things, though, but he preferred to omit it for John’s sake.

   John tilted his head to stare up at Sherlock’s eyes, “Why are you upset?”

   “They are all you talk about, and I’m not a big fan of it”, Sherlock admitted it. _I need to be the only vampire you are fascinated about, John._

  “Sorry… But why? I mean… Ah never mind, I was being overexcited indeed”, he lowered his head again, fidgeting with Sherlock’s purple shirt, “It’s just that… The things they did, especially Ioan… I’ll never forget.”

   “I’m sorry you had to see it, John”, Sherlock leaned to kiss his head.

   “I’m sorry your maker had to die”, John said in almost a whisper.

  “If she had not being killed, then you’d be. So I’m glad she’s gone”, Sherlock spoke while brushing John’s hair with his long fingers.

   “Ioan was so fast! I couldn’t barely see him—“

  “John, stop”, Sherlock shifted a little too harshly so he could sit down, John had to move quickly to do the same before his head hit the rug. Sherlock regretted it at the moment he saw his boy’s upset face, “I’m sorry, my love. It’s just that…”

   “I get it, Sherlock. He killed Victoria, that’s why—“

   Sherlock had to cut him off, “No, John, it is not because of that. It’s silly really.”

_Jealousy_. He knew that was the whole problem. He was becoming really mad – not at John, never at John – but at himself for arriving after the siblings in the lake house. He should have been the one to save John, he should have been the one to destroy the danger, but he wasn’t, oh no, he was late. He had being deceived, he knew it wasn’t his fault but still that’s what he felt it. And now John was all impressed and stunned by how fast and brave and strong and everything Ioan was. Sherlock clenched his teeth just thinking about this vampire, he didn’t even know the Romanian properly but he already disliked him.

   “Tell me, please. I won’t find it silly”, John said reaching his hands to touch Sherlock’s thigh.

   “I just need to know that you’re mine. That’s it.” Sherlock closed his eyes, took a deep breath – though he really didn’t have to, it was only habit – and spoke, “I don’t want you thinking about anyone else but me, John. I want to be the center of your universe just like you’re mine. And I need to be sure that you know who you belong to. Because I am quite sure I belong to you.”

_So soppy, Sherlock. Soppy and possessive. A combination of human feelings and vampire feelings. Maybe, but still MY feelings, completely true and honest. Still, soppy. Well, guess love makes us all soppy. That just made everything soppier._

  His inner arguing was interrupted by John’s soft chuckle. “Sherlock Holmes, so jealous”, John crawled until he was sit on Sherlock’s lap, grabbing the taller man arms and grounding his small body with them, “I was yours from the very beginning, I just didn’t know yet. I think you are the most brilliant, attractive, fantastic, marvelous person in this world, vampire or not. I was just a bit impressed, that’s all, no big deal. You’re the only one that is in my mind every second of the day. Roger that, mister?”

   Sherlock tighter his hold on John, burying his face on the boy’s neck, “Aye, Captain.”

  “Sherlock… What will happen to me? Mycroft still hasn’t said anything about my situation. You know, about me being human and all…” His voice was full of insecurity, so Sherlock kissed him several times on the neck.

   “Don’t worry, my love. I won’t let anything happen to you. Mycroft can make sure everything he wants - and everything I want - happens, and all I want is for you to be with me.” Sherlock easily took John by the hips and turned him so they were face to face. “I can’t wait to take you to Baker Street, we’ll build our own world there.”

   John smiled, his cheeks blushed.

  They kissed until his boy had to breathe.

 

\--

 

   Sherlock has lived in 221B Baker Street since before he was turned. So one can say Victoria was staying there temporarily. The small flat was the closest to home he ever felt, but still not quite. Not until John. When both boys arrived there after the week, the place was calm and looked like it had never seen death. Sherlock turned his head to see John’s reaction to the apartment, there was no disappointment there.

 “Sherlock, it’s cozy!” That was all he said while walked around, touching and searching for nothing in particular. _Always curious, my John. But it’s good, I want him to feel completely comfortable here._ Suddenly John stopped near the small table at the living room, he picked a picture frame that was on it. “That’s my… Family.”

  Sherlock got closer to him so he could see. Mycroft went to John’s old house and brought some of his things here, like this photograph of the Watson family. Sherlock wrapped the boy’s waist and rested his chin on the top of his sandy hair. They looked like a normal family; Watson father was sturdy and few hair; Watson mother reminded him a lot of John, with the same hair color and smile; Watson sister was skinny and had darker hair; and then there was John, the most beautiful one, with a smile that could light up the entire world. They were happy.

  “I’m sorry they’re gone, John.” Not so much though. He couldn’t be in perfect happiness about it because it made John unhappy, but if it wasn’t for their death then Sherlock would have never met his boy. “I’m going to make you as happy as you were, John. I promise you.” _I’ll make you happier._

   “You make me happy already, Sherlock”, John put the photo on the table and kissed Sherlock’s lips softly before turning his head to see a red chair that wasn’t there before Sherlock left the flat. “It’s my armchair! It was in my room. Thank Mycroft for me, please.” With a satisfied smile the boy jumped into the chair and curled himself there.

   “Don’t know about that”, Sherlock said giggling while he sat on his own old chair across from John’s.

   They were in silent for some moments, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Sherlock just kept staring at John with a silly grin on his face, and John’s eyes were still scanning the room, he was biting his lower lip absently. Sherlock found that quite sexy, but was not going to say anything just now. “Is that a skull?” John suddenly asked.

  “Yes. It helps me think”, Sherlock said with an amused tone.

  "Tea helps me think. Guess I’ll make some. Do you want some? Oh I mean, stupid me. You don’t drink tea. Sorry, just the habit”, as John was nervously standing up, Sherlock made sure the boy that he didn’t offend him or anything.

   “You’re not stupid, stop it. It’s okay, my love. I don’t drink tea anymore, but I used to like it very much.”

   John just smirked and put the kettle on. Sherlock stood up and sat at the kitchen’s table, just watching the boy move around, preparing some toasts too. All this food talk just remembered him of his own thirst. He hadn’t fed for five days and could feel his body asking for blood. He needed to go out in a hunt, but he was afraid to leave John alone in the flat. Silly, he knew, but still after everything that happened he was apprehensive to low his guard on the fragile – but brave – boy. Plus, since that second night, Sherlock was feeling rather guilty every time he went out to drink. He even tried not to kill the humans he fed on while they were in the Manor; he thought about John, what he would think if he found out Sherlock’s a cold murderer. But he couldn’t stop himself, too many years without a conscience, just doing that without considering anything had spoiled him, so he ended up draining two bodies in that neighborhood. John could never know.

   “What’s wrong, baby? You look lost in thoughts”, John asked sitting next to him, resting a hand on his thigh.

   “Sorry, I do that very often”, Sherlock put his hand above John’s small one, “I was thinking about you, which also became very often to me”, he smiled.

  “And to me”, John kissed Sherlock’s cheek and sipped his tea after, “It’s fine, Sherlock. I mean, I want you to know that I understand. Alright? You don’t need to hide anything from me.”

  It looked like John was reading his thoughts. He couldn’t help but circling John’s shoulders with his left arm. They fitted perfectly together, they’d be great, they even knew what one was thinking already. _But John still cannot know, or he’ll leave._

   “I know, my love.” Sherlock touched his hair, grinning fondly.

   “Er… Sherlock? Now that I remembered. What will happen to the lab we found in the hospital? Why was it there anyway?” John asked taking another sip.

  “I told Mycroft, he claimed not to know anything about it, but said he would ascertain it”, Sherlock didn’t believe at all when Mycroft told him that, his brother knew everything about everything. But he didn’t mind much at the time to ask for more, he had John to think about, a much pleasant thought in fact.

   “Any plans for the day?” John asked, resting his chin on his hand while drinking hot tea with the other.

   “Anything you want to do is fine for me.”

_Actually it’s perfect._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs used for the titles and the pieces before the chapters helped me a lot during the process of creation, I highly recommend you to listen to them. So in case you don't know some, here is the complete list:
> 
> A Horse With No Name by America  
> 1 - Helena by My Chemical Romance  
> 2 - Team by Lorde  
> 3 - For What's Worth by Buffalo Springfield  
> 4 - Hurts Like Heaven by Coldplay  
> 5 - Blown Away by Carrie Underwood  
> 6 - Hurricane by 30 Seconds to Mars  
> 7 - Born to Die by Lana del Rey  
> 8 - Monsoon by Tokio Hotel  
> 9 - Into the Open Air by Julie Fowlis  
> 10 - He Won't Go by Adele  
> 11 - Shelter by Birdy  
> 12 - This by Ed Sheeran

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading it! Comments are very welcome! (:


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